Pushing the thought away from his mind, Brendon reached down and hiked his trousers back up around his waist. For the moment, finding his step-father seemed to be the most important thing. Years of experience had taught the teen that when Rick called, Brendon answered.
Fuming, Brendon slapped the wall in his frustration. He turned around and began to storm out of the hallway, slamming the basement door behind him. His pants were sliding down his waist again.
"Damn belt." Brendon grumbled reaching behind and pulling up his trousers.
He looked down to tighten his belt. His fingers stopped just short of his belt. His eyes widened as he could see that the belt was tightened all the way on the last loop.
"What the-"
In response, Brendon's pants and boxers fell down around his waist. The boy was covered only by the ever-growing t-shirt that had somehow stretched down over his private parts. It ballooned over his body like a tent, and felt horribly awkward.
The small boy whirled around to see in horror that the doorknob to the basement had risen to eye level. He stumbled back from the doorknob, too much in shock to actually comprehend what was going on. He felt the ever-growing shirt on him slide down his shoulder.
Brendon moved a hand to lift the shirt back up to its proper place on his shoulder. He stumbled forwards as a sudden wave of nausea hit him. As the wave passed, Brendon stood up straight, just in time to see the shirt fall down around his ankles.
"Oh my gawd." He moaned staring down at the empty clothes on the floor. "WHAT'S HAPPENED TO ME!!"